


Peonies (Remix of An Inkling of Your Heart)

by Fullmetalcarer



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik Lehnsherr is a Sweetheart, Florists, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/pseuds/Fullmetalcarer
Summary: Erik watches Logan tattooing Charles and has feelings . . .





	Peonies (Remix of An Inkling of Your Heart)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chekov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chekov/gifts).
  * Inspired by [An Inkling of Your Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7466247) by [mutanitys (chekov)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chekov/pseuds/mutanitys). 
  * In response to a prompt by [chekov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chekov/pseuds/chekov) in the [xmen_remix_madness2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2018) collection. 



Charles had picked three gorgeous peonies from the back room in Erik's florist shop. Fresh in, just bursting into bloom, they were a glorious riot of magenta. He'd sat in Erik's small, tidy apartment, drawing them with painstaking care. Erik had prepped dinner - pasta with a pecorino sauce and a green salad - and watched him out of the corner of his eye. He loved watching Charles draw or tattoo. The intense look of concentration, the slight frown between his eyebrows, the pink tip of his tongue at the corner of his mouth - Erik was sorry when he had to call him for dinner.

They ate in amicable near silence, exchanging a few words about their days; Erik's busy because Tuesday was delivery day so he'd been sorting out bunch after bunch of fresh flowers; Charles' quiet because the tattoo business tended to ramp up towards the weekend.

After dinner they cleared up and stacked the dishwasher. Erik watched a wildlife documentary and Charles finished off his drawing.

"What do you think?"

Erik considered the picture of the three peony heads, backed by leaves. Charles had stylised and simplified the flowers but they were still recogniseable.

"Mmm, I like it. Where are they going to go?"

Charles pulled off his sweatshirt. From neck to wrist to upper thigh, he was covered in tattoos. A dragon curved round his neck and shoulders. Galaxies and nebulae and starships sprinkled his right arm. Ivy and thorny roses twined around his left, animal eyes peering between the stems. A stormy sea covered his chest, the waves curling into more abstract shapes as they crossed his belly, before turning into rune-like inscriptions on his thighs.

Charles turned round. Purple wisteria draped his right side, the stems twisting into the words "Brian Xavier" - his father. On his left side a raven spread its wings and opened its beak to emit a speech bubble, "Quoth the Raven, 'Shut The Fuck Up, Charles!'" - his sister. Below the flowers and the bird was a copy of a famous Chinese scroll painting of a temple beneath misty mountains. His buttocks were still untouched.

"I think it's time to do an arse cheek. My right I think. The peonies and - "

He paused.

"And what?"

Charles looked at Erik over his shoulder. He smiled a small, slightly tremulous smile.

"Your name."

Erik stared. Charles' smile faded and he turned away and said, his back towards Erik:

"Sorry, it's a big tacky, isn't it? And too much too soon. God, Raven's absolutely right, I always get too intense. I'm sorry, forget it."

Erik stood, stepped up behind Charles, wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. He bent his head and pressed his cheek against Charles'.

"I love it. I absofuckinglutely love the idea. There's something primitive deep down inside me that gets hard at the thought of you being marked with my name."

He kissed Charles' neck, lips brushing blue dragon scales. Charles made a delighted noise and turned round in his arms and kissed him back. He grinned up at Erik.

"And if we split up I'll have it covered with a big dick or something.

"You little shit."

"Or maybe a limp dick."

Erik proceeded to show him just how un-limp his dick was.

They went over to Logan's that Thursday. He was one of the few tattooists Charles trusted to do work on him. Erik had met him a couple of times before and hadn't liked him much; probably because Logan and Charles had been fuck buddies a few years back. Logan was now in a long term relationship with a lovely young woman called Rogue - way too good for him in Erik's opinion - and Charles assured Erik there'd never been anything romantic between them, just sex, but that didn't stop Erik giving the big, hairy, tattooed Canadian the stink eye.

"Hello Logan."

"Hi Chuck. Good to see ya." Pause. "Lehnsherr."

"Howlett."

Charles showed Logan his drawing, now with the addition of "Erik" in a gothic script. They discussed placing and colours and decided that Logan would get the lines in that evening, plus the name, then do the rest another day. Logan ran Charles' line drawing through the thermal fax and they both pored over the transfer paper to make sure it was perfect.

Charles tugged down his sweatpants and lay face down on the chair. God, he really did have an amazing ass. Erik noticed Logan noticing and clenched his fists.

"Come sit by me, love," said Charles, reaching out his hand.

Erik took it and sat down beside Charles.

Logan eased his black gloves on. He shaved the area he was going to tattoo with a disposable razor, stripping off the fine, downy hairs that gave Charles' ass a golden halo in the right light. He cleaned and disinfected the skin, then rubbed a deodorant stick over Charles' ass cheek and held the transfer paper above the creamy flesh.

"Just a fraction higher and to the right. Perfect."

Logan carefully pressed the paper to Charles' buttock and then peeled it off. Charles' design was picked out in blueish-purple lines. Logan set up the inks, then picked up his tattoo machine and settled down at Charles' side. All his equipment was pristine. Charles let go of Erik's hand and rested his fingers on Erik's knee.

Logan started the machine and bent to his work. Erik gave a quiet gasp as needle touched flesh. He'd never seen Charles' getting tattooed. Charles had tried to explain it to him; how it was an almost religious experience; a ritual; that, yes, it hurt, but it was a bearable pain, a pain he sought out in the service of his art. Charles' fingers twitched on Erik's knee then stilled. He breathed slowly and deliberately. Every now and then there were hitches in his breathing, then it returned to that deep, even rhythm. His head was turned to one side and his eyes were half closed. Occasionally his lips would tighten or his brow furrow. Mostly he looked kind of blissed out. Tiny beads of sweat formed on his hairline.

Logan wiped away the blood, stretched Charles' skin between his fingers and carried on tracing the lines of the petals, then wiped, then tattooed, then wiped, then tattooed, repetitive and hypnotic. His big, gloved hands on Charles' pale, slender-yet-muscled body did something strange to Erik. Yes, he was jealous, but he was also aroused. His cock hardened in his jeans as the whirring needle travelled Charles' flawless skin and Logan's hands gently cleaned and drew. Half way through they had a break so Logan could stretch his fingers and Charles could drink a can of sweet lemon tea. The design was complex, a symphony of fine, finer, finest lines.

Erik's cock was damn near full hardness by the time Logan had finished inking "Erik" under a curving petal.

"OK, that's enough, Chuck."

Charles opened his eyes wide and blinked dazedly and said:

"I'm fine, honestly. I could take half an hour more."

Logan laughed.

"Always want to push it just that little bit further, don't ya, Charlie boy? Well, not on my watch, Xavier."

Charles muttered something decidedly uncomplimentary. Erik snagged a piece of paper towel and wiped his forehead. Charles gave him a dreamy smile. Logan got some anti-septic and tenderly cleansed the tattoo. Charles bit his lip. Erik prayed for his semi to subside. By the time Logan had wrapped and taped the newly tattooed skin and Charles had carefully slid up his sweatpants, Erik's cock was almost quiescent.

Logan and Charles made an appointment for the next session. They seemed to think one more would be enough to finish it off.

Erik and Charles walked home - slowly - holding hands. Charles lay face down on the rug and gazed sightlessly at the TV while Erik made fish tacos. Erik lay down beside him and they ate on the floor. Charles was ravenous.

Before bed Charles removed the wrap and cleaned the tattoo again. Erik perched on the edge of the bath and watched.

"How does it look?"

"Good. With the colours it's gonna be great."

Charles gave him a weary grin. It was warm enough to sleep on top of the bedclothes so he stripped and settled onto the quilt like a cat. Erik sat next to him, admiring the artist's canvas of his body, flesh gilded and illustrated and enlivened by ink. It was a part of him, part of his skin, a thin tracery over the lovely sculpture of bone and muscle.

Erik ran his fingers over the wisteria blossoms and his right shoulder blade. He caressed the raven's feathers and Charle's left flank. He drew both palms over the mountains of his backbone and the Chinese temple in the small of his back shivered at Erik's touch. He took a firm hold of Charles' pearly pale left buttock, marked by nothing more than a scattering of freckles. He hovered his index finger over his name on the right buttock, millimetres away but never touching.

"You're mine now. It's official."

Charles snorted.

"I've been yours for months now. Marked or not I'll always be yours."

Erik's chest felt too tight and his mouth too dry so, instead of speaking, he slid his hand under Charles' crotch and grasped his cock.

"Oh, yes please."

Erik stroked him gently, ignoring his demands for him to go faster or grip tighter. He stroked him to hardness, aided by pre-come and sweat, then withdrew his hand - how Charles whined - slathered his fingers in lube and went back to work. Charles came gasping his name and Erik used his lover's come to lubricate his own prick as he jerked off over the blue dragon on his shoulders, spattering scales with pearls.

The finished tattoo was magnificent, petals subtly shaded in purple and red and pink, the leaves a fresh green, shadowed with blue.

Three months later Erik got a peony bud with an "X" nestled in its heart on his right buttock. Charles said it was small but one of his best pieces.

"Just don't tell my mother. A good Jewish boy shouldn't have tattoos."

"But darling, you're not a good Jewish boy, you're a very, very, baaad Jewish boy."

"Not according to my mama and she's always right."

"True, Edie is always right. OK then darling, you're my dear, sweet Erika, my Jewish princess."

Charles called him "Erika" for three weeks, until Raven told him Charles' middle name was Frances. Things escalated dramatically at that point but eventually a truce was declared and ratified by careful fucking - the tattoo was still healing.

**Author's Note:**

> Look at the gorgeous art Mikanskey has created! Stunning . . .

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [His skin is a painted herbarium [fanart]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388248) by [Mikanskey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikanskey/pseuds/Mikanskey)




End file.
